Guilty Pleasures
by xXxBlackDahliaxXx
Summary: Slytherins are always shifty and Harry's always been wary of them. Although overhearing a meeting being arranged for the dead of night just screams Death Eaters. Harry has no choice but to follow them. Of course... he's certainly not prepared for what he finds. ((Suggested HP/DM. TW: Drug use. Oneshot. COMPLETE))


**Title:** Guilty Pleasures  
 **Disclaimer:** J.K Rowling and associates own these characters and universe. I am writing this for fun and make no profit from it.  
 **Pairing:** Suggested HP/DM, Suggested Zabini/Parkinson.  
 **Rating:** Rated M for swearing and (magical) drug use.  
 **Content Notes:** Drug Use, Depression, mild violence, some swearing.  
 **Summary:** Harry has been suspicious of Malfoy throughout his sixth year, but when he overhears a couple of Slytherins agreeing to meet in the dead of night. Harry knows its his obligation to follow them, and his duty to know what they're up to. Although, he can't say he's prepared for what he finds.  
 **Author's Notes:** This is a small oneshot that I did at University for our Fanfiction unit (yes, a whole unit on FF. As you can guess, I was thrilled). It's a lot milder than than I normally write, but I did enjoy it. If there's enough interest, _maybe_ I'll do another chapter with more detail. Maybe *wink*.

 **Guilty Pleasures**

"He's up to something."

Hermione sighed loudly. Harry watched as she slowly put her quill on top of the half-finished homework, and then as her steady honeyed gaze met his.

"Harry. You've got to stop. This obsession you've got isn't healthy and, quite frankly, it's getting a bit annoying."

Harry pouted but didn't reply. Hermione was volatile in her pre-essay mind, and an argument would undoubtedly follow. So instead of talking, he picked up his quill and turned to his empty parchment.

It didn't take too long for his eyes to wander upwards and across the study hall. He was still in the same position. Arms folded over the table and then head resting on the arms. His platinum hair was splayed across the table. Harry narrowed his eyes before he caught himself doing so. He inwardly sighed. Yes, so maybe Hermione had a point. Harry did watch the ferret more often than he probably should. But, in his defence, Malfoy had a tendency to be a complete dick. Harry had learned from experience never to take an eye from the blond tit because as soon as you're not watching, he would strike. Itching Hexes and Sneezing Curses had seen to that.

But it wasn't just the curses. There were rumours, physical violence, insults, destroyed work, disappearing clothes… the list was endless.

Harry dipped his quill into the inkwell and brought it to the parchment. He let it hover for a moment, which caused the obsidian ink to drip. He shuddered. The motion was so hauntingly familiar to the first time he had opened Tom Riddle's diary three years ago that it caused him to slam the quill on the table. Hermione didn't even look up from her work, so Harry just packed his things away. He murmured a goodbye but it fell on deaf ears. He walked back to the Common Room quickly, avoiding people he knew were going to talk to him.

Just before he turned the corner to the Gryffindor Tower, he heard a sound that was vaguely familiar.

Harry quickly shoved himself in the back of an alcove where a statue stood. Keeping himself as small as possible, he listened. The footsteps slowly got closer, two sets. Their whispers were just a mixture of hisses, and unfortunately for Harry, they weren't close enough to Parseltongue for him to understand.

Although when the two stopped just before the statue, Harry didn't know if it was some divine blessing or just ridiculously good luck. He crouched lower, feeling silly but wanting to know what the two Slytherins were up to.

"… can't do it in the place we did last time, Filch found it," whispered Pansy Parkinson.

"Well, I know a place," breathed Blaise Zabini. "It's on the seventh floor. A little room in the far corridor."

There was a pause. Harry held his breath.

"Okay. You tell Draco, I'll tell Theo."

"Are you sure Draco's up for it though?" Blaise's tone was eerily concerned. It didn't sound right to Harry.

Pansy snorted. "Of course he is. The only reason he's still reeling from Monday is that he mixed Black with Red. I told him not to, but you know how he is."

There was a rustle of robes and Harry risked peeking a glance. The two of them were stood close together, almost intimately. Hm, he'd have to remember that.

"OK," said Blaise finally. "I'll tell Draco."

"Good. We'll meet at eleven like last time. I'll see you there."

Harry heard a smacking sound, like a quick touch of lips, before the two separated and headed down different ends of the corridor. When he thought it safe, he crawled out from behind the statue.

So, they were meeting tonight, were they? Well, it was his _duty_ to stop evil Slytherins from planning. He was just protecting himself, that was all.

That was what he told himself as he headed back to the Common Room.

 _Duty, duty, duty._

* * *

Harry cast another Tempus Charm. Quarter to eleven. They should be here soon.

He shivered under the Invisibility Cloak again, wishing he had thought to bring a jumper. The door he stood by was in a dank part of the castle. It was clean but smelled musty from lack of use. He didn't dare go inside, mostly because he could feel the hum of wards surrounding the door. Obviously, Blaise didn't want people going in there.

Another Tempus Charm. Ten minutes.

Of course, he could have been wrong. The two of them might have known he was there are they were just stringing him along. Then he thought of the way they were standing. The two must have been going out, but he hadn't heard anything about it. And Harry was an expert in Slytherin gossip. He had kept an ear out for happenings that were suspicious.

This was definitely suspicious.

Five minutes.

Maybe he should have told Ron and Hermione. They had come into the Common Room after dinner, but they both looked exhausted. They'd gone straight to bed and he didn't want to deny them a lie-in in the morning. It was Friday, after all.

Just as he moved to cast another Tempus Charm, there was the echo of footsteps down the hall. Harry froze, pushing himself further against the wall. He held his breath as Blaise came into view. He had a satchel across his shoulder, and every few steps he would turn and look behind him. His whole demeanour screamed 'I'm doing something wrong!' and it only steadied Harry's resolved even more.

Yes, they were up to something.

Blaise walked right by him, walking up to the door. He took out his wand and waved it before the door, muttering under his breath. Harry tried to catch what he was saying, but Blaise was too far away. Any movement from Harry now would just give himself away.

Blaise finally opened the door, and Harry was granted a brief look inside. It looked like some kind of unused classroom. Blaise shut the door quickly, and another shimmer of magic spread across the door.

Before Harry could so much as breathe, more footsteps echoed through the empty hallway.

Harry watched as one-by-one, Pansy, Theodore Nott and Millicent Bulstrode hurried down the hallway. They came separately, at least two or three minutes between them. They each whispered incantations in front of the door, and each of them went inside. Harry had the itch to tell McGonagall. But if he did, and they found nothing, Harry would be nothing but a snitch and would be ridiculed even more by the Slytherins. No, he needed proof.

Finally, more steps sounded, and Malfoy stepped into the corridor. Harry held his breath again, but this time involuntarily. Malfoy was a mess.

His shirt was rumpled and open at the top, his hair looked messy and unkempt. Even from this distance, Harry could see the dark purple bags under his eyes. His skin was so pale that it looked translucent in the faint moonlight. His face was a mask of pain and worry.

Malfoy walked up to the door but didn't move to take the wards down. Instead, he covered his face with his hand and took steadying breaths. It was an oddly vulnerable gesture.

From what Harry knew of Malfoy, the git was constantly in control, every action is taken with precision, every word fired with deadly intent. This Malfoy looked broken. It was enough to send Harry reeling. If he wasn't spying, then he would have offered Malfoy a friendly hand. Which was weird enough. He'd never expected to feel _sorry_ for Malfoy. Never.

Malfoy took one last deep breath before slicking back his hair with his fingers. Then he pulled his hawthorn wand from his pocket and began the same chants. Harry, seizing his chance, stepped forward, glad he was only wearing his socks. He stood as close to Malfoy as he dared, only moving when Malfoy did.

He managed to get inside without alerting them, and quickly moved away from the centre of the room to a corner. He stayed by the door, just in case it went sour.

The five of them sat in a circle, each with their legs crossed. Blaise was setting something out from in the middle of his satchel. Harry watched, confused and yet transfixed. Blaise set out five things that looked like flutes. They were long and plastic-looking, each a different colour. The way he set them out, so carefully, made Harry frown. Were they volatile?

Blaise then pulled out a square carton and put it aside, along with a bottle of some dark liquid. Finally, he put out five clear shot glasses.

"Right. Because you've never done Colours before, I'll explain it to you, Millie. The five pipes here are the Colours. You'll just have the brown one because it's your first time. Brown is the weakest, and the Colours change with the strength. Brown, Orange, Red, Green, Blue then Black. What you do is take a long drag, and keep it in. Then you have a shot and let it out. I've got these Muggle cigarettes because they keep you grounded. OK?"

Millicent nodded although Harry saw her wipe her hands on her thighs. All five of them were practically bouncing with excitement. Harry couldn't see Malfoy's face because he had his back to him.

Blaise nodded, picking up the bottle of what looked like Firewhiskey, and filled the shot glasses. Everyone reached forward and took one, holding it in their left hand. Blaise then picked up the brown pipe and put it in his lips. He shot Pansy a smirk before finally taking out a lighter from his pocket.

Harry gasped as he realised what they were doing. He wanted to leave but the only way to make sure all of them got it in the neck, he'd have to see all five smoking. That way, when they pulled his memories to check, he'd convict all of them.

Blaise lit the pipe. The smoke rose, but it was different from normal smoke. It moved sensually, in some kind of rhythm, and Harry swore he saw a bird in the smoke.

Zabini took the first drag. He drew it in deeply, his chest risen, before passing it to Malfoy. Harry watched as he chugged hit shot, and then he let out the smoke. This time the smoke twisted and morphed, finally turning into an eagle and soaring outwards. It disappeared as it rose, but Harry was still amazed.

Draco took a drag, passed the pipe along, and took the shot. Then he let out the smoke. It changed into what looked like a ferret, or a weasel, before evaporating.

Harry watched as they all did the same thing. Blaise refilled the shots when the pipe got to him. All of their faces had changed. Now they sighed and smiled, a glazed film to their eyes.

It was all the evidence he needed, but something kept him there. They all seemed pretty lucid, and if they got him with a curse then he would be boned. So, he stayed there, watching as they repeated the motion with the brown pipe.

After the second round, Blaise gave them all a cigarette, and the smoke from the white sticks moved like normal smoke, wispy and with no real direction.

Pansy giggled, taking a drag of her cigarette and leaning back on her elbows.

* * *

Harry wasn't sure how long he was there, but from the way his legs cried out, it must have been a while. They had nearly finished the Firewhiskey and were passing around the green pipe. Millicent had been given the brown pipe, and her cheeks were flushed. They had moved around, no doubt in a bid to get more comfortable.

Pansy had her head in Blaise's lap, with her legs across Malfoy. Millicent was lying next to Theo, and they both laughed at nothing in particular. Blaise had been telling the story of some poor first year that fell prey to his prank, which had ultimately left the girl in the Hospital Wing.

Malfoy and Pansy laughed, but it was uncontrolled and high.

Harry rolled his eyes. He should be able to sneak out now, they were all far too gone to really notice. So, getting from his crouching position, he stood up, only to gasp when his knees gave out. He froze as Malfoy turned.

The burning silver eyes looked in Harry's general direction before they glazed again, and he sank back against the desk he was leaning on. Harry went to let out a breath of relief but stopped himself just in time. He walked slowly, carefully, making his way to the door. When he got there he'd just have to take his chance.

But he never got there.

" _Petrificus Totalus!_ "

Harry felt his whole body snap straight, his arms at the side. In his head, he screamed, but his body simply fell to the floor. He felt the pain, he wanted to wince, but he couldn't do so much as blink furiously.

The memories of the beginning of the year came to mind when Malfoy had stunned him and then broken his nose. Despite himself, his heart raced against his ribcage.

There were snickers behind him and a scramble before five faces crowded his vision. Malfoy was laughing openly, even when he reached forward and wrenched the Invisibility Cloak away. A few of them gasped whereas Blaise just gave him a smirk.

"Oh, Harry, Harry, Harry," breathed Malfoy, leaning closer. "I thought you would have learned from last time!"

His voice was higher than normal and the words were slightly slurred. Harry blinked, fixing a glare on the twit.

"What should we do with him?" giggled Pansy, brushing his hair away from his face. Harry wanted to bare his teeth in warning, but instead, he settled for a glare. He could feel the magic pinning him down, and it was terrifying.

"Maybe we should chuck him in the Lake?" offered Nott.

Millicent shook her head. "Nah, t – too far… away."

"Why don't we leave him something to remember us by?" asked Blaise. Harry inwardly cringed at the danger in his tone.

Malfoy looked thoughtful for a moment before he scrambled away. Everyone watched him besides Harry until he came back. In his hand was the red pipe.

He hovered it over Harry's face and his eyes watered from the smoke. Everyone snickered at Malfoy's intent. Harry tried to open his mouth to protest, but couldn't, so he put all the fury into his eyes. Malfoy shrugged.

"If he won't join us, then we can just _Obliviate_ him."

Panic gripped Harry with icy fingers. He felt his breathing increase and his eyes darted around. _Obliviate_ was one of the most difficult spells to learn, and the idea of it being performed by five inebriated six years who hated him was more than terrifying.

"Ha! Look at him!"

The five of them laughed at Harry's distress, and he wished that he had told someone. Now he was at their mercy.

"So what do you say Potty?" Malfoy brushed his cheek with the tip of his wand. "Join us or become the new Lockheart?"

Harry glared, but there wasn't anything he could really do. The room was silent for a moment before they remembered he couldn't speak. Malfoy nodded at Blaise, and the dark-skinned Slytherin took out his own wand.

There was a rush of relief as the magic was lifted, and Harry took a deep breath. His first thought was to run, but the five wands pointed at his face told him that would be a bad idea. Normally, he knew the Slytherins wouldn't actually kill him on school grounds, he didn't know what they would do in this state.

He moved into a sitting position before the pipe was thrust into his hand. He stared at it dubiously before looking straight into Malfoy's eyes.

"I'm going to get you back for this."

Malfoy smiled. "I look forward to it."

With that, Harry brought the pipe to his lips. He took a small drag, feeling the smoke curl in his lungs. It burned his throat and tasted somewhat like hard sweets. He purged the smoke from his lungs, but the effect had already grabbed him. His whole body felt light like he was floating on a cloud. A warmth had settled in his stomach and his head swam. Harry blinked, trying to clear his eyes, but it didn't help.

"That's not a proper toke, Potter. Do it again, and drink this before you breathe out."

Harry frowned. The voice seemed far away and sounded as if it was underwater. The pipe was brought to his lips, and again he breathed it in. His lungs screamed, but he held it until a small glass was in his hands. Closing his eyes, Harry chucked the bitter drink down his throat. It burned worse than the smoke, and he spluttered out the smoke. He couldn't tell what animal came out because everything suddenly had a red edge to it.

The pipe was out of his hand, and that was good because he felt himself sink back onto the floor. The ceiling glimmered in and out of red and silver, which should have been worrying, but everything felt good. He couldn't really remember why he had been afraid a minute ago because everything was beautiful.

Laughter bubbled up around him, but they burst and left him humming with contentment. There were people definitely talking but he didn't pay them any attention, instead shifting himself into a more comfortable position. He felt people settle around him.

There was warmth to his left and he looked to see the red face of Blaise. He had the pipe in his hand and pulled from it deeply.

More warmth dotted around him. One by his feet, one to his right, another on his lap and finally one settled on his stomach. He sighed, feeling pleasantly happy. He wondered why he didn't feel like this usually. There was a reason, he knew, but he just couldn't think what. The memory danced in and out of his vision, and in the end, he just gave up and leant into the warmth.

His hand wandered down to feel what was on his stomach, but his fingers brushed something so wonderfully smooth that he stopped. It was like liquid satin, falling between his fingers. He let his digits have free reign, caressing the softness at their own pleasure. There was another sigh from somewhere, and Harry couldn't help but agree.

"Wh – why aren't we more like this… why do we fight, Harry?"

He stirred at his name, shrugging.

"No idea."

"I mean I – I just, I just wanted to be your friend, you know? Just, like, just be friends."

"Well why… why can't we? Let's just be friends."

The warmth on his stomach nodded.

"'Kay."

The pipe was passed around again, and Harry was lulled deeper into the blissful ignorance in which he floated. He knew he was talking, but not about what. He knew the warmth settled closer to him, but he didn't know who. All he knew was that he loved it, every minute.

Sometime later, maybe hours, maybe minutes, days, weeks, he was pulled to his feet. He saw Draco before him, pulling him somewhere. There was a rustle of material hauled around him, and Draco moved closer and under it too. He was being guided somewhere, through a door perhaps, or an archway. Then he was moving downstairs, the stone cold under his feet.

Draco mumbled something. Harry frowned, turning, opening his mouth to ask what was just said, but before he could he was being shoved into something hard.

Then the warmth pressed against him. Something wonderfully wet was in his mouth then, moving gracefully. It explored every inch, running along his tongue in some kind of dance. He moaned, submitting to it, only to be pushed further against the wall.

Tingles of pleasure sparked all over his skin. The haze in his mind sharpened, became more intense, and he was blinded by it. All he could do was try to keep up, try and stay in step with the onslaught, but he was lost. Lost to any rational thought. The warmth demanded him, and he gave himself to it. Willingly.

* * *

"Harry? Why are you on the couch?"

The voice hammered into his skull and it was all he could do to moan. He opened one bleary eye to see the faint outline of Hermione. She loomed over him. Colours danced in his vision and he hissed. It took him a while to be able to sit up, and when he did, he recognised the Gryffindor Common Room.

Hermione sat next to him, rubbing his back.

"Are you alright?" she asked for millionth time. He nodded.

God, what happened last night?

Then Hermione gasped, brushing back his hair and revealing the nape of his neck.

"Harry! Where on _Earth_ did you get that love bite?"


End file.
